Fallen
by wobuzhidao
Summary: "How are you here? You can't be here-I saw them lock you away!" He was screaming, hands shaking furiously. Khan slowly rose, each movement elegant and measured. He advanced until he was standing inches away from Jim's face. "Oh, I am not out yet. Actually, I am right here…" he ran one cold hand down the captains chest, resting it over his heart, and then vanished. Kirk/Khan
1. Living Nightmare

_The dry wind of this desert waste planet stings my cheeks. All around is the sound of phasers and the cries of the Klingons as they fall into the dirt, but I do not hear them. The world for me is silent, like a film left to play on mute. Beams of red, blue, and green fly past me, but none come closer than a meter. This is a precision I have never seen or heard of. Something is protecting me from the enemy fire,.. maybe there is a god after all. _

_I feel someone pull me to cover behind a boulder. It's Uhura. Her face is a mask of fear and agony as she grasps the bloody gash in her leg. My mind does not register that she needs to get medical attention; in fact I do not seem to think at all. Suddenly the fighting stops, and with a rush of sound a man in black steps towards me. This is the monster we have chased to another galaxy, but he does not look like our prey or anyone else's. He is very much the hunter._

_ The man walks over the cooling bodies of the soldiers, his heavy boots crushing bone. His heavy black coat billows behind him like a pair of wings. He is pristine, white flesh free of sweat or sign of injury. I think he is an angel. A cruel twisted one who had fallen from god. _

_ John Harrison-Khan, looks at me with piercing blue eyes and I feel my heart stop under his scrutiny. _

_I am hitting him, again and again and he just…takes it. His face still completely still, _

_icy perfection- _

"Keptin!"

Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise shot up, rapidly surveying the room for the threat. His breathing slows as he realizes that it was just a dream, Khan is gone. The Federation froze the murderous bastard in a cryo-tube and put him someplace where he will never get out.

Everyone was safe.

The captain slowly fell back into his chair, suddenly very aware of the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the bridge. His crew was staring at him with various looks of confusion and worry.

The bright light that filled the room cast his handsome face into dark shadows. Jim's normally shining blue eyes were ringed with dark circles, and he did not hold himself as straight and tall as before. There was no doubt that this was not the same man who had ignored the prime directive just to save his friend.

It was no secret that the Khan incident had shaken the captain. Everyone in Starfleet knew how much Jim had sacrificed to keep the Enterprise in the air. He was a hero back on earth, but he didn't feel like a hero. His mentor was dead as were about half of his crew just because he had wanted to get even. No one said it, but he knew that their blood was just as much on his hands as it was Khan's and the Admiral's.

It was a dark bit of irony that the one who had cost him so much was the only reason that their savior was alive. Khan's blood coursed through his veins, mixing with his. It was like he had been contaminated, he was unclean…tainted.

_But are you really James? Maybe you are simply…better…smarter. You are a survivor; you saved all of these people from terrible deaths and-_

He forced a smile, trying to push the voice to the back of his mind. Jim hoped this would be enough to convince them that it was nothing, but while most of the bridge returned to work a few continued to watch him with curiosity. The last thing he wanted was to lose his command because anyone though he was emotionally unstable. What no one seemed to understand was that there was no life for him on Earth. His mother had died a year earlier, leaving him no place to go even if he wanted to. Jim had no wife, girlfriend, boyfriend…His family was all gathered in this room and he would never leave them.

"Sorry Chekov. What were you saying?" He asked trying to make it light and unconcerned. But, Jim did not see the knowing looks Uhura and Spock were exchanging.

The young Russians voice faltered slightly as he spoke. "Nothing, Keptin. I just wanted to tell you that we have set course for Ares X-66 and if my calculations are correct….we should be arriving in about two days Sir." Pavel turned quickly back to the controls, long pale fingers tapping away. "Great. Keep up the good work gentlemen," Jim said quickly, before rising and heading towards the elevator. He could feel their eyes boring into his back as he retreated.

He let out a long breath as he heard the doors close behind him, thankful that none of them had attempted to follow him. He didn't think he could bare to face them like this. _Weak,_ came the voice.

Jim walked through the sterile hallways of his ship and did not stop until he finally reached the door to his cabin. The room was large compared to many of the other living quarters on the ship. It was furnished with nothing but a large white bed and a single chair, which sat facing the large window. The bed had not been slept in for days and the small alcove beside it was covered in empty coffee cups.

Once inside he sat down, gazing silently out into the black. He thought of getting up to pour a drink but thought better of it. Jesus, he was turning into a proper saint! No sex, no alcohol, soon he would be following Starfleet regulation to the letter like Spock…No, that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that he couldn't sleep.

_"Tell me James, why can't you sleep?"_ came a deep dark purr from behind him. The voice washed over him like a wave of relief. It sounds so familiar and yet he cannot place it. He should wonder how they managed to enter his room, how they knew the access codes…but.

But.

"I don't know…I just can't. It's like-"he cut of abruptly, turning to look for the man who had spoken. Lounging on his neatly made bed was Khan.

Jim jumped up, quickly grabbing for his weapon.

"How are you here? You can't be here-I saw them lock you away!" He was screaming, hands shaking furiously. Khan slowly rose, each movement elegant and measured. He advanced until he was standing inches away from Jim's face. The captain shivered as the other leaned in until he could feel cold breath against his neck.

_"Oh, I am not out yet. Actually, I am right here…"_ he took one cold hand and ran it down the captain's chest, stopping over his heart.

Khan inhaled deeply and then he disappeared, leaving Jim alone in his room, weapon aimed at empty air.


	2. Blackout

The med bay was always full of people. Blue clad nurses and doctors ran from bed to bed healing everything from broken bones to paper cuts. The frantic buzz of conversation was everywhere and the air was filled with the smell of disinfectant. The lights were on ninety-percent obliterating any shadows from the cavernous room.

Few people realized just how easy it was to get injured on a starship, but even with state of the art technology accidents do tend to happen. It had been…difficult enticing any of the newly graduated cadets onto the ship, given their impressive track record where casualties were concerned. Of course, you could always count on the captain's hoard of admirers, but many of them were hardly ideal candidates. This had left a lot of the departments lacking and pushed the crew to breaking point almost every hour when some new crisis materialized.

Dr. Leonard McCoy was still fuming in his office when there was a sharp knock at the door. He looked up to see none other then- "Listen you pointy eared bastard, I ain't got time for this. Donovan and Han were both put in the brig, leaving me two senior medical personnel short and every body on this godforsaken ship has decided to get sick at once!" he grumbled.

His southern drawl always seemed to increase exponentially when he was angry. One officer, a young andorian, had made light of this fact and subsequently was informed that; 'we seem to not have enough morphine for the more critical patients, so you will just have to have this tooth removed without it."

Spock seemed to be pretending he was deaf, so the doctor pushed his point. "And I don't understand why you went and locked em' up anyway! No one will tell me what they did in the first place-Are you listening to me, damnit?"

The Vulcan looked up from the floor, finally meeting Bones with a dead stare.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience, Doctor. But, they have been suspended from duty in light of the an incident, which we were not aware of when we took them on board."

"Incident? What kind of incident? Jesus man, I'm a doctor not a mind reader." Leonard was exasperated. From day one this Vulcan nut job had been a royal pain in his ass, and now the little goblin wasn't even looking at him.

"Well?! And if you sight regulation I swear to god-"

"That will not be necessary Doctor. This is not the reason I came to speak with you."

McCoy huffed loudly, plopping him back onto his desk chair and then as an after thought, begrudgingly motioned for Spock to sit across from him.

"Well what is it? This better be good because I am very busy!"

Spock raised one perfect eyebrow.

"This is about the captain."

A pause.

"What about Jim?" McCoy's voice was lower now, faltering.

He quickly tapped something into his pad and the door slid shut with a loud hiss. It was not a secret that lately there was something off about Jim and this was not a conversation that he wanted to have overheard. If their captain had a problem, they all did.

" I am sure you have noticed that there is something…unusual about the way the captain has been acting lately. He is showing signs of insomnia, even going so far as to fall asleep on the bridge this morning. I want to make it clear that this is strictly, how you say 'off the books.' I need you to find out what is wrong with him and help him regain his accuracy or I shall be forced to report these problems to high command"

"Spock-" The vulcan raised a hand to silence him. His eyes were worried and brow creased in thought.

"Before you interject, I wish to make it clear that I would not resort to this unless it was absolutely necessary. Jim is my friend, but the lives of the crew aboard this vessel come first…is that understood?" His usually commanding tone was gone, replaced with a silent plea.

The doctor nodded slowly.

* * *

It was late.

The bridge was deserted as Jim slowly sank into his chair, watching the monitors as they flashed and whirred. He loved the large white room the most when it was like this quiet and still. There was something wonderful about looking out of the large window, watching as space bent around the enterprise. Jim knew one thing for sure, this was so much better than that shit hole in Iowa where Pike had found him.

He had been down to the med bay and forced Bones into giving him enough stimulants to jump-start a tractor. He had a bottle full of the little red pills in his room. Jim had thought that he was tired, but the hallucinations-well-he hadn't expected that. Normally, he would have just treated it with a glass or two of hyper vodka, but this was worrying enough to convince him to seek help. Of course he neglected to mention to the good doctor who exactly he had been hallucinating about. Bones looked stressed enough as it was, and it wasn't like he couldn't handle himself.

They only had about thirty-four hours left until they reached their destination. Ares was a small planet on the far border of Klingon space. It boasted one of the largest cities this far out in the black, but the surface was mostly uninhabitable desert. Starfleet had been receiving transmissions from the capitol reporting the sight of several strange ships flying frightening close to the atmosphere, who, when hailed had made no response at all. Jim had not wanted to go on this mission at all. _He_ had wanted to stay as far away from anything Klingon as physically possible, but Spock had taken an unhealthy interest in it. Only god knew why his first officer seemed to be the one giving all of the orders on his ship, but here they were.

Maybe it was just that the Vulcan had almost asked him nicely if they could go.

"_You shouldn't expect any humility from a Vulcan. They always were stuck up imbeciles." _Khan leaned against the main control panels, scraping non-existent dirt from underneath his fingernails. He sounded incredibly bored. _"But you aren't like that are you, Captain? I am sure you understand the meaning of gratitude."_ He abandoned his nails, instead looking directly into Jim's eyes. His gaze was laser focused and so sharp that it could cut diamond.

Jim stiffened, hand flying to his weapon. He leveled his phaser at the now smirking man's head. Khan raised his hands in surrender, blue eyes widening in mock terror.

_"Oooh! What are you going to do, James? Shoot me?" _his voice was still that velvet smooth purr that made Jim feel decidedly uncomfortable. They were frozen in this strange tableau for a moment before he finally came back to his senses.

"As captain of this vessel, I order you to tell me how you have escaped from wherever the hell they stuck you!"

"_Make me"_ Jesus! Even the way his plush lips formed the word was lewd. "_Oh come on captain_…" He stepped forward until the barrel of Jim's gun was brushing his pale forehead.

"Tell me, or I swear to god, I will shoot you."

Khan stepped back, chuckling contentedly, acting as if there was not a deadly weapon pointing straight at him. Keeping the sight focused on the other man, Jim tapped the com link located on the arm of his chair.

"I need immediate assistance on the bridge, we have a hostile on board!"

The murderer just rolled his eyes, returning to his original position. _"Oh please James. I think we have been through this already. You pull out yours, I-"_

"Shut up!" Jim yelled.

The doors to the bridge flew open and Uhura along with two large security officers charged in. Kirk was standing in front of the main console, weapon raised at…thin air. Nyota paused for a moment and then gestured for the two men to leave them alone, giving them a look, which clearly said "you will keep this to yourselves."

The men filed out quickly, leaving her alone with the captain.

"Jim…are you alright?" She said warily as she drew closer.

"Uhura watch out! He-"

"Jim, there isn't anyone else here. Just you and me."

He watched in horror as Khan stood behind her, hands creeping slowly around her thin neck.

_"Would you like me to kill her for you? Just another innocent, whose blood you are drenched in? It would be sooo… easy" _

"Stop!"

There was a brief flicker, and then the other disappeared.

"Jim!"

The room began to spin wildly in bursts of white and red. He could hear a voice calling his name, and a pair of small hands touching his forehead. Jim was breathing heavily and then the black surrounded him, the darkness swallowing him whole.


	3. Lockdown

Doctor McCoy pulled the lab coat tighter about his shoulders in a vain attempt to block out the cold of the little room. It turned out that you could never really get used to the freezing temperature of space. Especially after living in someplace like Georgia all your life.

He passed the scanner over his friend's unconscious form, looking for anything that might explain the hallucinations and insomnia. The little device hummed and whirred, beeping occasionally but otherwise not reporting anything critical. McCoy was skeptical of most of the hand held tech, and much preferred to do examinations without them. It wasn't that he was afraid of robots taking over the world or anything, but he hated the way that technology had become such a security blanket for medical officers.

No matter what people seemed to think, he had always found that the best looking was done with your eyes. Of course this wasn't a wide spread view. Most of the other doctors at the academy openly laughed at his mistrust of the things, which oddly enough, irritated him more than if they had argued with him about it. Once, he had even gone so far as ban the things for a month, forcing all of his interns to do the exams manually and make their own diagnosis of patients.

The captain lay stretched out on the narrow palate, his eyes closed and body stiff. Jim was breathing so shallowly that to an untrained eye it would look as if he were no longer living. It didn't help that the room looked like the lily white lining of a coffin.

He was still dressed in his off duty uniform of a tight fitting black shirt and pants. It was a uniform that only the fittest of crewmembers could pull of, seeing as it left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The formal uniform wasn't any better, but at least it provided an extra layer of insulation. The wafer thin fabric was made of a fortified fiber that was designed to conform to the body's temperature needs, but Leonard didn't find that particularly comforting. Of course, putting him in a nightgown would hardly have been a better option. First they would have had to lift the heavy bastard, and then they would have had to listen to him complain about it when he came-to.

There had been a one-week special course in medical school on sleep related illnesses and so far McCoy had lined up several possibilities, each worse then the next. It could simply be fatigue, but he was more inclined to thing it was either Hondoli-fever or a minor case of Faraglis-plague. Both were extremely painful, highly contagious, and fueled bizarre hallucinations, which is why he was planning on taking about five decontamination showers when this was over. Just to be safe, the doctor injected him with the antidotes to those two diseases and vaccinated him for the other possible fifty-three.

He finally finished, getting to his feet and heading towards the large glass wall. Once safely outside of the cell, he turned to watch the hole contract until all traces of it had vanished.

McCoy did not like is part of the ship, with its silence and freezing temperature, but they had no choice but to put the captain here until they could be sure he wasn't a danger to anyone else onboard. The enterprise was not conducive to quarantined zones as pretty much every piece of available space need to be used to its fullest.

Lieutenant Uhura and Spock stood on the far side of the room, their eyes drifting worriedly to the glass cell as they spoke in lowered voices. The captain had been out cold for about two hours now, leaving his friends in a panicked state as they decided what to do with him.

"He was hysterical."

"And you said Kirk seemed to think that there was something else in the room with you?" the first officer asked quickly.

"_Someone,_ he thought that there was someone else there. I only came because I was the first to respond to his message. Whoever this person was, it was someone he did not want to see."

"Did the captain specifically mention anyone at all?"

"No, Spock…I honestly don't know what it could have been. There was no one else in the room with us."

McCoy crossed over to them, pushing the samples he had taken into a small black bag at his side. When he spoke, his tone was grim and lacked it usual irony. "Well, I took a sample of his blood to run some tests, but other than that I can't tell you anything for at least 24 hours."

"Thank you Doctor, you may return to the medical level. I think it would be redundant to remind you that this stays completely confidential," the first officer said shortly.

McCoy laughed darkly, but there was no humor in it.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

A pair of deep blue eyes opened slowly, long lashes fluttering under the weight of heavy lids. The light shining down on him was blindingly bright-and it was cold-_freezing_. He sprang up, stiff muscles burning in protest. _Was Uhura safe? Where was Khan?_ A severe looking white wall was in front of him and there wasn't any furniture or equipment in sight. He felt his pockets for his weapon but they were empty of everything.

His exhausted mind began to piece together the fragments of memory. He remembered being on the bridge with Uhura, watching as Khan wrapped his long fingers round her neck. After that everything went dark. The silence was so total that he could hear his heart beating. She must have brought him to Bones, but this definitely wasn't part of the med bay.

Jim slowly turned to face the other side of the room, already knowing what he would find.

He ran towards the glass, banging on it to attract the attention of the three people standing in a huddle near the exit.

"Hey! What the hell is this?!" he yelled, eyes wide in confusion. They came forwards, McCoy looking worried, Uhura looking everywhere but him, and Spock as neutral as ever.

" Sorry Jim, but we couldn't risk having you in the med bay. The crew is worried enough as it is, and besides, we need to keep you in quarantine until I can figure out what's goin' on with ya. Understand?" Bones was attempting to smile reassuringly, but it looked more like a pained grimace. Unfortunately, Jim was way to angry to notice.

" I'M FINE! There is nothing wrong with me, and who gave you the right to do this? Was this his idea?" he asked pointing at Spock with a mistrusting look in his eyes.

"No it was not my idea. However, Doctor McCoy has the authority to assess and deal with any medical issues which arise on this ship, in accordance with regulation 55873, section two, paragraph three-"

"Screw regulation! As captain I order you to let me out of here!"

" I can't do that."

Jim knew that tone. That was Bones' " I-won't-budge-on-this" voice, and it meant that no matter what he did, there was no way he was getting out of here. Of course that wouldn't stop him from trying.

" Oh come on! Its not like I'm contagious or anything, I just need to get a little sleep and then I will be fine."

" Captain, you are clearly not well. It is only logical that you allow the doctor to perform the proper tests before you jump to any conclusions. If you are indeed fine then at the end of the allotted time period you will be released."

"TIME PERIOD?!"

" It's only twenty four hours."

"TWENTY-"

" _please_." Spock growled, dark eyes narrowing with annoyance.

After a shocked pause Jim sighed dramatically.

"Fine! But at least let me stay in my room, it is freezing in here."

Bones only shook his head, looking upset.

"I can't let you out, but I will adjust the temperature for you."

"Why? You seem to have neglected to tell me why I need to be locked up if I'm sick."

"Its for protection."

"Oh come on Bones-I don't need to be locked in the brig like some prisoner and I certainly don't need to be protected."

" No, but we need to be protected from you."

"What?!"

"You almost shot Uhura, because you thought there was someone else there…until I know you won't hurt anyone I will not let you out…please Jim."

But the captain could not hear anything as a wave of anger rushed over him. He yelled until his throat was hoarse, slamming his fists against the barrier in anger. Until, knuckles bruised and bloodied, the captain leaned against the cool surface, chest heaving. Through the wall he could hear a short sob. A tearful Uhura turned and ran for the door, Spock chasing after her.

They stood in silence for what felt like ages, separated by the wall between them.

"Just twenty four hours Jim." Leonard turned to leave, silently praying to anyone who would listen to help Jim get well again. The doctor could put up with a lot of crap, but he couldn't bear to look at his best friend slumped against the glass of a prison cell.

"Bones-wait-don't you dare leave me here! Bones! Bones!" But it was too late. The doctor turned the corner, and the door slid shut with a metallic hiss.

_"Alone at last."_

* * *

A/N: Ok, from here on out my cache of chapters is depleted so it will take longer for me to update. thanks for sticking with this fic so far and I hope you like it! After this chapter the pacing of the story will also slow down, because I have got everyone exactly where I want them. Please comment and let me know what you think.


	4. Hour One

Khan was sprawled on the tiny pallet, one long leg pulled tight to his chest, the other dangling over the edge. The superhuman was the picture of haughty elegance. His plush lips were parted in a lazy smirk and the captain could not help but let his gaze fall to them. The white light of the room seemed to radiate from him, making it look to Jim as though Khan was cloaked in some heavenly grace. Of course it was nothing but a hallucination brought on because of exhaustion-_was that what bones had said?-_ or maybe it was all some weird fever dream and he would wake up in the med bay.

_"Tell me captain, how does it feel to be locked in a little glass cage by your precious friends? It didn't take long for them to turn on you, but what did you expect I wonder…Well at least now we will get to spend some quality time, you and I. Me and you… Us."_ Khan sounded like he was savoring the word, rolling it around his tongue with a sinful slowness. He-_it-_was enjoying this…although that was impossible because it wasn't really there. "_Come on James. Don't pretend that it doesn't bother you, we understand each other too well for these stupid little games. At least enjoy the irony of the situation. Now you know what it feels like to be trapped, locked away because of what you are."_

Jim knew exactly what Khan-what the delusion was trying to do. The brig was stuffed with cameras, which meant that everything he said or did was being watched and analyzed. He racked his mind for everything he could remember about protocol regarding illness or injury of a commanding officer while on active duty. Back at the academy, every single cadet on the command track had been given a whole list of rules, regulations, and other things, which were essentials for every captain or first officer. Cadet Jim Kirk had most definitely not been allowed anywhere near one of these manuals as they also contained the means to finding almost every loophole in Starfleet protocol. Unfortunately for the academy administrators, Jim kirk was a first rate hacker.

_" I wonder what they were thinking when they dragged you down here…You are such a liability to them, I assume this was the most logical solution to the problem. At least they kept you in that outfit. It does highlight some of your more prominent assets…" _Khan's heated stare cut through him like a hot knife through butter.

Jim could practically feel the other undressing him with those laser sharp beams. What perhaps made the situation even worse, was that Khan was wearing pretty much the same thing. So at the mention of exactly how revealing the outfit was, he could not help but notice that the same rang true for Khan. The black material stood out against his pale skin, hugging sharp hipbones and rolling muscles. A pair of thick black combat boots completed the picture of the perfect dominatrix, all he needed now was a riding crop- wait what?

Jim bit down hard on his lip, tasting the coppery tang of blood as he again began to run through procedure. Ok, so…if the commanding officer is taken in for observation…What happens? Come on Jim, think! He is-

_"Subject to the same rules which affect any member of Starfleet in the same condition. Now that you have that figured out, lets move on, shall we? I know, let's talk about how I am going to slowly murder everyone you have ever held dear in front of you."_

For a moment he was taken aback. There was no way that Khan could have known what he was thinking about-except it wasn't the murderous bastard. The man stretched out before him was just his mind playing tricks on him.

Jim thought back to that first mission when he had played this exact game with Spock. Then it had felt so easy to manipulate and provoke the Vulcan to violence, but Khan's-_its_-languid purr was off somehow. He-_It_ was seductive when it should have been bitter…Jim shook his head. He was over thinking this.

It wanted him to react, to yell and scream again, maybe get locked up indefinitely, so he ignored it, instead walking over to the opposite corner of the cell and sinking to the floor. It wasn't as comfortable as the bed, but at least it put as much space between him and the other as was possible. Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away. The captain concentrated every fiber of his being on tuning out the man still lounging on the other side of the cell.

They sat in silence for a moment before it tried again.

_"Oh this is dull! Come on Captain, I know you have a lot on your mind…feel free to vent, it is not like I am going anywhere."_

He did not respond.

* * *

Notes: The next few chapters will show what goes on in the cell during the 24 hour of for the length but I want to just push out as many of these as possible instead of making you guys wait a really long time for one chapter. Next chapter should be relatively soon, hope you like it and keep reading.


	5. TwoThreeKill me please

The monotonous hum of the monitor was drowned out by the activity of the room, its screen depicting the claustrophobic cell in sharp quality. Right now, it was showing the same thing it had shown for the past hour: Jim sitting dejectedly in the corner, eyes shut tight. McCoy thought he actually didn't look half bad. His heart was beating steadily and for the most part the kid seemed fine, probably just trying to get some sleep. The doctor glanced warily around the room to make sure none of the irritating interns had gotten a glimpse of the scene. It was hard enough acting like he wasn't worried about his friend, but dodging his coworkers all day was beginning to be downright annoying. However, none of the blue clad crew so much as looked up from their work.

For the sake of efficiency, McCoy had linked the cell's camera to his PADD so that the feed would stream straight to his channel as he worked. As Chief Medical Officer, he could not afford to sit around all day and watch Kirk sleep. The computer was also set to notify him should the captain's vitals become critical. It wasn't like there was anything else he could do. Any reaction to the vaccinations should have occurred about half an hour ago and so far it had been radio silence. He chuckled quietly as he remembered how he had gotten Jim onto the ship in the first place, inflated hands and all. Jim had never quite forgiven him for that one and always insisted that one of the pretty nurses give him his booster shots and check ups.

He took a look at the feed whenever he had the chance, but most of the time he was otherwise occupied. The Doctor shoved the little device back into his lab coat pocket, as he wove in between tables full of test tubes and frightening looking scientific equipment. At last, he sat back down at his workstation, letting out an exasperated sigh. As little as he wanted to admit it, he had hit a wall with the blood samples they had collected from Khan. He had requested to take samples from one of the other frozen crewmembers, _any _of the other crewmembers, but Starfleet high command had the bodies on lock. Apparently you could be a doctor on one of the galaxy's most celebrated ships and still not have the clearance to actually do anything.

So he made do with what little he had. McCoy may have kept a vial or ten hidden in his room and failed to mention it in his reports. The stuff had brought Jim back from the dead, and could potentially save thousands of lives. If he had learned one thing working for Starfleet, it was that if you wanted to get anything done, you had to do it all on your lonesome. Of course, the process of figuring out what made the regeneration work was painstaking and required the utmost care. One little mistake could prove catastrophic in clinical trials.

McCoy certainly didn't want any more practically indestructible power loving nut jobs running around, just because he miscalculated a dosage.

They had been trying for months to synthesize a compound that would mirror the regenerative effects of the blood, with no luck at all. What made it even more frustrating was that the murderous bastard had known that Starfleet would have no idea how to unlock its secrets by themselves. Several officers had tried to get Khan to talk but it was kinda like talking to a blank wall. A wall that smirked maliciously at you.

The last words the superhuman had said to McCoy, with a knowing smirk, had been "Have fun, Doctor." Jesus! It was like the maniac was taunting them from the safety of his Cyro-sleep. His final "screw you" to the Federation.

* * *

This was beyond boring.

In school, Jim Kirk was one of those problem kids who never could sit for longer than an hour without going stir crazy. He had fidgeted, tapped his stylus on his desk monitor in a way he knew the teacher (and everyone else) found annoying, and constantly asked to go to the bathroom just so he could walk around the school. His mother had taken him to half the doctors in the state. But, there was never anything wrong with little "Jimmy", except that he had destructive tendencies and constantly picked fights he couldn't possibly win.

Let it suffice to say that adulthood and captaincy hadn't changed him one bit.

He wanted to move: to be able to walk more than ten feet before he hit a goddamn wall. The only thing that stopped Jim from pacing around the cell like a caged tiger was the knowledge that it would require him to get closer its other occupant. A quick glance revealed that Khan was sitting perfectly still and… staring at him. His face was unreadable and his blue eyes were disarming with their clarity. The gaze wasn't assessing, categorizing, or particularly evil looking and Jim did not like it one bit. You could call it old- fashioned but he preferred not to be eye-screwed by a figment of his imagination, currently masquerading as a crazy mass murderer.

Khan noticed Jim returning his gaze, raising one perfect eyebrow.

"_Problem, James?"_ he purred, sounding highly amused by the confusion which must have been evident on the Captain's face.

Jim snorted, but remained silent.

By the third hour of confinement, Jim was intricately planning the deaths of both Spock and Bones. He wasn't quite sure how he would destroy the evidence, especially on a ship covered with cameras, but all obstacles can be overcome. It would be difficult, but not impossible.

Jim closed his eyes with a sigh, letting his head fall back against the cool surface. Maybe sleep would do him some good, if he could sleep with genetically-enhance-super-psycho staring at him… His thoughts drifted back to his life in Iowa, before the Enterprise, before any of this.

Jim had never quite fit in on Earth. To the other kids, he had always been that freak whose daddy had died. He never tried to get them to understand because it wasn't like he gave a shit what they thought.

Being smarter than everyone you grew up with didn't earn you friends, but it taught you how to defend yourself. Sometimes things went too far and his mother would have to come bail him out of a holding cell. His knuckles would be bruised, shirt covered in blood, but the other guy was always worse off. However, she would only sigh and say, "what would your father think of you now, Jim?"

The drive back to the farm would be as serious as a funeral.

For all the crap his mother had given him about respecting his father's memory, she hadn't taken long to shack up with someone else. He still remembered Roger, who had reeked of stale booze and engine grease. Then there was Frank, a mechanic from two towns over who could barely tie his own shoelaces, let alone be a father figure. God, one of the best days of his life had been when he drove that abusive bastard's car off a cliff.

A deep moan broke the silence, and for once in his life, James T. Kirk hoped to god that it wasn't one. It was probably just…one of the sensors- another one. This time it was longer, lower, and sounded suspiciously like "_Captain_." He kept his eyes clamped shut, refusing to-

"_James!"_ No one should be allowed to sound like that.

Jim slowly cracked one eye open… and then the other.


	6. Four-Five-Six Broken bricks

The funny thing about having the people around you question your sanity, was that eventually you begin to question it yourself. Watching with wide eyes as Khan slowly ran one thin hand down his chest, his dagger sharp cheekbones flushing a rosy red, Captain James T. Kirk decided that, _yeah_, he was definitely not well.

It wasn't the crudeness of the tactic or its brutal obviousness that kept Jim frozen in place; it was the elegance. The way that even when Khan looked as if he was slowly unraveling, it was done with a control to rival any other.

Jim had learned about Earth's history-well he had slept through most of the class, but after the incident he had spent a few days locked in his quarters going over everything there was to know about the man who called himself Khan. The Eugenics Wars had been one of the lowest points in human history. Millions had been wiped out, simply because of the way they looked or because they were not deemed superior enough to join the new age of humanity. A few scientists had banded together to create a group of super humans, the best of which was Khan.

They had been smart, fast, strong, and beautiful soldiers, superior in every way imaginable. It had not taken them long to attempt to seize power in a world at war with itself. Many of the new regimes fell just as quickly as they had risen, but not Khan's. He had brought something akin to peace to his kingdom, and as a result was exulted by his subjects. However, it had all ended with the war. He and his followers had fled to the outmost reaches of space, where they had slept for hundreds of year before their craft was stumbled upon by Admiral Marcus.

He had only been able to pull up only one faded picture on his PADD, most of them having been destroyed by the post-war government. It showed Khan dressed in a simple white shirt and black pants, his black hair, slightly longer then, was caught on some invisible breeze. He wore no sign of rank, no clue as to the fact that he was ruler of most of the planet, but that aristocratic elegance was still there.

Khan's eyes fluttered open meeting Jim's with a sinful heat and the captain's mouth went dry.

"_I see I now have your full attention, Captain."_ He sounded as if he found the whole situation amusing, which was odd seeing as he was the one looking like he had gone about ten rounds with a very enthusiastic partner. Jim's gaze was drawn to the man abused lips, now a deep shade of red against his pale skin. Jesus! It had been, what, two hours of silence so far and the illusion had taken things this far? What would be next? Honestly, he was starting to think that he finally had gone insane. So, resigning himself to a lifetime locked in a comfy padded room, in a jacket that was done up in the back, Jim sighed and for the first time since Bones had left, spoke.

" You really hate being ignored huh?" He tried to sound like his usual carefree self, but instead his voice was a faint gasp in the cold air. The other's smirk faltered slightly at the words and a melancholy sheen came over his electric eyes.

"_I despise it."_ There was a sharp bitterness to the words that struck Jim. He was reminded of that final conversation in the brig, when Khan had revealed the true reason for his violence. Of course they had not believed a word of it at first. Why would you trust a man who had been lying about himself from the moment he had raised his hands in surrender and allowed you to march him onto your ship? The man from the past had been lying from the moment he was awakened from cyro-sleep.

" I don't see how anyone could ignore you for very long, especially when you resort to…well you are very distracting to say the least." Jim meant every word and couldn't help but smirk at the smug look now plastered across the others face.

"Don't be too pleased with yourself. You are only such a charming bastard because you are me, or my mind anyway, and honestly with a face like that you can't go wrong. The personality is just a bonus." He drawled just the way he would when he was picking someone up from a bar, flashing his ten thousand kilowatt smile.

Khan snorted, slouching even further into the wall. "_Another thing we have in common, Captain, we both hate to give up the spotlight. Even though there is no way you could ever hope to compete with me in any way." _

"You are ridiculous. So, why the hell did they wake you up first? You are obviously way more trouble than you're worth. " Whatever warmth had begun to enter the room evaporated. Khan's face reverted to that same stony mask, and he was silent for a long moment as he regarded the captain.

" _Did you know, Captain, that the dearly departed admiral was very fond of ignoring me? He liked leaving me to wait for his orders like a dog. Of course he did not dare to do such a thing until he knew for sure that I would not slit his throat the moment his back was turned. No, he used the power he had over me very well, commendably well. You can imagine how humiliating it was for me, Captain. I used to rule almost a quarter of your planet, and yet I was degraded to nothing more than a slave, and by such an inferior being too._ " His resonant voice was steady and calm, as if he were simply making a remark about the weather and not the events which had lead to the destruction of most of Starfleet.

It was not until the wreckage was being cleared away that Jim had been fully informed about Khan's time on Earth before London. What he had found was nauseating. Marcus had starved and tortured the man until he had realized that no matter what pain and suffering was inflicted on him, Khan would simply heal in silence. It was then, after months and months that he had whispered his final threat to the bleeding man: if he did not do as was commanded, the others would be awoken, one by one, and killed in front of him. It was exactly as he had said from behind the glass barrier, a single tear trailing down his striking face, "Every thing I did, I did for my family." He understood this better than anyone, for the captain would gladly die for any of his crew-members, as was his duty.

And yet, Jim could not help but let the venom creep into this voice as he finally responded, eyes locked on the other man with cold disgust.

"And you followed those orders, didn't you? Well, at least until the day I watched you crush his skull with your bare hands. You used that man and his daughter in London, just like you used my mercy, planning on eliminating all of us as soon as we were no longer of use. Tell me, you knew what he would use those missiles for, did you care about the lives which would be lost so that your crew would survive or did you think the deaths of those you thought to be so inferior were irrelevant?" Without realizing it, he had stood up, now standing at the center of the cell breath coming fast and hands clenched in tight fists. Khan smiled in that infuriatingly inscrutable way, as he rose to meet the challenge and Jim was overcome with the sudden urge to hit the other man: to make him suffer. He wanted to hear his pained cries, and watch the ruby blood drip down that handsome face.

Khan leaned in closer until Jim could feel abused lips ghosting over his ear. "_Yes_," came the low rumble. "_Why should I care about their deaths? Those people meant nothing to me, while my crew meant everything. You above all should know that James, after all, we are both drenched in the blood of innocence. Why shouldn't we allow ourselves to take what we want, to conquer?"_ Jim felt a cold hand slide down his arm to take his hand in a frighteningly gentle grip. "_By all means, go ahead and hit me, Captain. Do it. I want to see you lose control again the way you did on Kronos."_ Khan placed their joined hands over his slowly beating heart, eyes never leaving Jim's.

" _I want to see your savagery again."_

* * *

Sorry for the wait guys! I am getting ready to move back to the US today and have been super busy for the past two weeks packing and running around getting forms signed. I hope to put out another chapter soon, but It may take a while before I get completely settled in. Love you all and I promise that I will update as soon as I can.  
Please comment and let me know what you think about the story thus far.  
-wobuzhidao322


	7. Why is it silent?

Pavel breathed out a short string of Russian curses under his breath.

He shook his head in confusion at the numbers flashing on the screen before him, soft coppery curls bouncing slightly, as he went to double check that the equations were sound. He did not notice the worried look on Sulu's face. The console buzzed monotonously as the Enterprise slowly drew closer to their destination, its warmth comforting under his agile fingers as they flew over the immaculate surface.

A few crewmembers moved about the bridge, each completely focused on their own tasks. A quick glance behind him revealed that the Vulcan's face was still frozen in his usual stony expression. The laughter and life that filled the small room when the Captain Kirk was there seemed to have turned tail and run as soon as Mr. Spock took the con.

Most of the people who came into contact with the irate first officer walked away feeling slightly nauseous, completely inadequate, or a mixture of both. Pavel however, was one of Spock's favorites despite their rocky start at the beginning of the ensign's year at Starfleet.

The prodigy had stumbled in late to his very first class at the academy: Professor Spock's class on Advanced Astronavigation. The Vulcan had looked him up and down, quickly taking in the haphazardly buttoned uniform, rumpled hair and abused looking lips. It was very clear to Spock that this was yet another lackluster incompetent who had probably forgotten that he had class in the first place. The first half hour of the lecture had already proved that most of his students weren't capable of grasping the simplest theories regarding navigation. Spock had narrowed his eyes slightly, and gestured for the boy to sit next to Uhura, who would keep and eye on him, before turning back to his mostly sleeping audience.

"So, when charting around the course of an object in motion, for example, the fragment of a planetoid near a large planetary body, what would be the best course of action to avoid collision?" It was an easy question if a little cruel, more of a chance to see if there was any form of sentience in the hall. He scanned the rows of bored looking red bodies and to his surprise saw a hand. This hand was attached to a skinny arm, which was attached to the now beaming latecomer.

"Yes cadet…?"

"Chekov, sir! Pavel Andreievich. Your qwestion is trik wone. Eef it is alwedy cawt in grawitational pull, you vould not need to avoid it, just keep going." He waited expectantly, eyes wide as he waited for an answer.

"That is correct."

The rest of the lecture had turned more into one on one session with Chekov, with a sizable audience watching the back and forth like a tennis match. The Russian proved to have an intellect to match the Vulcan's own and a talent for not only navigation but advanced physics as well. Nevertheless, he held Chekov back after class to make it very clear that this kind of behavior would not be tolerated.

Pavel, looked for all the world like a lost puppy as he apologized profusely in a whirlwind of Russian and English. Spock had caught a few words which sounded worryingly (but highly logically) like: "kedet-kwirk" being "wery forcefull siwr." Spock's eyes had narrowed at the mention of that particular name.

A few minutes of interrogation later revealed that the schools youngest cadet had been lost and asked Mr. Kirk for directions to the science lecture hall, with disastrous results. Kirk had apparently been "wery nice" and offered to walk him to the class, but had decided that the way Pavel could show his gratitude would be a very long make out session in the men's room.

It was common knowledge that the cadet was bad news for anyone who thought that order and good conduct were the two most important qualities of a good officer.

The living nightmare that was James Tiberius Kirk had showed up on his first day still covered in a mixture of his blood and someone else's, and begun a reign of terror fit for the history books. The only reason that he hadn't been kicked out had been that Captain Pike had decided that he was an asset to Starfleet. Whether this was true or not was something that began many shouting matched during officer's meetings.

He had let the little cadet run out of the classroom into the arms of a very understanding looking Nyota and let the incident go. After all, it was hardly Pavel's fault. Spock could see that purely objectively the cadet was very attractive, adorable even. His naivety made him the perfect target for someone like Kirk.

Looking back on it now, it was truly amazing that Kirk had made it so high in the ranks, given his history. Pavel thought that most of it was luck, but the rest was just… pure Kirk.

The quadrant that surrounded Ares X-66 should have been full of asteroids due to the destruction of a nearby moon in a skirmish between Starfleet and the Klingons, and yet it was as black and silent as death. There was no way that on their current course the Enterprise could have gone so long without at least encountering one or two pieces of the wreckage.

To Pavel, this meant that either he had done such a terrible job as the ships navigator that he should be removed from duty indefinitely, or that something was _wery _wrong.

By shift change, Pavel had still not worked out the flaw in his calculations. He was in a terrible mood and decided to skip dinner with the other ensigns and go straight to his room. Normally when he felt like being alone he would curl up with a cup of replicated cocoa and a novel, but today he opted for something a little stronger.

He was curled in ball under the covers when his PADD beeped. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he reached down for the device, only grabbing it on the second try. Its fluorescent glow looked eerie and haunting in the pitch black of the room. The message had come from an unknown source. He slowly tapped the folder, eyes narrowed in confusion at what it revealed.

A single sentence flashed warningly at the center of the screen.

Begin forwarded message:

почему это тихий Павел?

(Why is it quiet, Pavel?)

* * *

I do not spek russian, so if its wrong blame google translate, not me. Hope you guys liked it and Thank you for sticking with me. Real life has been getting in the way recently, but otherwise my move has gone successfully and I hope to start posting more frequently again. Lots of love and please review!


	8. Drifting

The alert cut through the silence like a knife, sharply pulling Leonard McCoy from a nightmare about divorce settlements and being chased by a herd of angry tribbles. His body was covered in a thin sheet of sweat and the rooms cold air hit him like a wall of ice.

It wasn't the first time he had been woken up at a ridiculous hour of the morning to come down to the medbay, but that didn't make it any less frustrating.

Only a few hours into Jim's confinement had seen one of the biggest accidents so far in the mission. The gravity modular on engineering deck five had shut off, killing twenty and injuring about fifty crewmembers. The medbay had been flooded once again with the coppery scent of fresh blood, and the pained groans of his friends and crewmates. Scotty had broken a leg, but otherwise was unscathed. In the meanwhile, one of the younger engineers, kid by the name of "Colt" was trying to patch things up as best as they could.

McCoy had been working tirelessly for ten hours straight, not wanting to leave until every one of the injured crewmembers was completely out of the woods. He had barely had the strength to walk back to his room before collapsing into a deep sleep.

His PADD's primary functions had been set to "do not disturb" shortly before collapsing in his bed. The only channel left open was the feed of Jim's cell.

He ran sleep numbed fingers through his hair, silently wishing he had never agreed to come on this mission in the first place. A set of weary eyes drifted open and fixed on the blue numbers, which shone through the room's total darkness. It was early into beta shift, about 2 am if he were to translate it to earth terms.

With muttered curse he rose from bed, trying not to trip over anything.

He maneuvered his way through the empty bottles and open medical text books which littered the floor, until he finally reached the small desk on the far side of the room. A quick slide of his finger across the surface revealed the footage from the cell camera. The small side bar showed that Jim's heart rate had risen ridiculously high, but otherwise his body temperature and vitals remained on the safe side.

Much to his relief Jim was still curled in his previous position, eyes sealed closed and breathing normal. It was probably just a nightmare. As annoyed as he was about being woken up in the middle of the night, he couldn't help but feel for his friend. Jim could always be counted on to be a pain in the ass, but he was McCoy's favorite pain in the ass. The clock showed only a three more hours before he could officially let Jim out, so the doctor stretched languidly before propelling himself on to his bed, where he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

The corridor was filled with the dull coppery light, highlighting the dirt and grime that had accumulated over what must have been a hundred years. Pipes and tubes paneled the wall like ivy slowly pulling apart the strongest of fortresses, each expelling heat and steam into the atmosphere. The stench of blood, sweat, and oil swirled around on the humid air, its stench almost suffocating.

A slim figure slipped through the network of pipes and gears with ethereal grace. He clung to the shadows like some sort of wraith, making no noise as he slowly made his way through the labyrinth of metal.

It would have been easy for most to become lost in a place as large as this, but that was impossible for had spent the rare occasions when he had managed to escape his cell, burning the layout into his mind, until he could find his way even in the total darkness.

Yes, he had become one with this hellhole, until even its stench had seeped into his skin-but that was irrelevant.

He could deal with suffering.

After a few minutes the shadow reached its destination. This was only one of Eden's thousands of server rooms, but it would serve his purpose well enough. The hissing and whirring of machinery could be heard in the distance, along with the harsh roar of drunken laughter. No one normally walked the floors at this time of night, but the threat of discovery was still very real.

Yes, it would not do well for him to be discovered lurking around the halls at night. Others had been brutalized for worse, but he knew that this would not be his fate. He was too much of a favorite with the crew for this to be the option, no-he would be looking at something far worse.

That was why this had to work.

Slowly the figure extended a thin pale hand towards the automated lock, only to quickly pull it away as another door opened close by. The previous silence was replaced by the sound of music. The figure frowned, the expression causing the grime on its face to crack and peel. None the less, he drew further into the shadows, remaining perfectly still.

The tune sounded distinctly Japanese, although he could not place it. It was centuries old, not belonging in this time. The irony of this thought brought an amused glint to sharp eyes, although it was quickly replaced with determination as the heavy foot steps faded into the distance.

With a few quick movements the door flew open with a soft hiss, and he slipped in. The equipment was in disrepair, but the main operating system was still mostly intact. Deft fingers typed a short line of code before tapping the enter button, and watching his message make its way out into the black of cyberspace.

A brilliant smile lit up the grimy face.

Salvation was on its way.

* * *

A/N: Hi guys! i am so sorry that i have kept everyone waiting for such a long time, but i was out of the country and being the idiot i am did not bring my laptop. ANyway, now that i am back i will try to devote as much time to writing as i can. Hope you guys like it, and if you have any suggestion PLEASE SHARE, because i always want to make you guys happy. THanks for sticking with me!

much luv,

wobuzhidao322


	9. The Mind is like a Maze

Ok sorry it took me so long to update this. The thing is, that since I have started school again ( I now go to a boarding school) I HAVE NO TIME. Even though I really want to write, sometimes I just can't so please bear with me. I will be trying to write a few more chapters this weekend, so be on the lookout for those.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

They were only millimeters apart.

Khan's gaze never left his. Those crystalline blue pits were egging him on, trying to goad him into giving in to the violence. He made no move to pull away, the superhuman's slim hand was icy cold against his, heart beating a steady rytham.

" When will you realize that most life is meaningless captain? You have seen those you care for snubbed out a thousand times, and yet… you insist on its importance. Only one or two will use their potential to its fullest, and more often than not, it is they who point the gun, and fire that final shot."

The captain could not help but notice, the slight tremor in the other's voice as he finished the sentence. With a broken smile, Khan stepped back and turning on his heel, vanished. The captain, laughed humorlessly, before collapsing down onto the cold palate and drifting into a deep and dreamless sleep.

A soothing breeze fluttered in through the open window, the brief chill causing the young man to further entangle himself in his snowy comforter. The sound of birds filled the slightly sticky air, bringing a newfound sweetness to the black that surrounded him. He could even feel the spring sun's teasing caress against his skin. He curled even further into the covers, luxioriating in the perfect feeling of content that often comes with waking in a cozy bed. It must be almost afternoon…

With a jolt he shot up, electric blue eyes wide opened as he realized his mistake. In seconds he was out of bed, managing in the process to knock the entire contents of his bed onto the floor. After a few minutes of muttered curses as he bumped into every piece of furniture the tiny attic contained, he ran out of the room, the large white door closing with a reverberating slam.

It was at first glance, a tiny attic room like every other. It had a bed tucked into the corner next to a sizable window, on the sill of which sat a very malnourished looking cactus, there was an antique looking wardrobe, a small desk which currently housed only a laptop, and a large shelf full of all manor of clutter. However, if anyone bothered to examine further they would probably be quite surprised.

The cluttered shelf was filled with books of every genre, language, and time period. Some of them were the new shiny editions, which could be found at every commercial bookseller's in the world, but most had been rebound with scrupulous care. Under the bed, hidden from view, was a small box containing a record player and several record all in perfect condition, their gold embossed covers declaring them to be the symphonies and concertos of all the grand masters.

The crown jewel of the rooms oddity was perhaps the smallest and easiest to miss by far. Tucked into a small nook, concealed by the low sweeping ceiling was a tiny white model ship suspended in the air by a thin silver chain. It was however, no ordinary ship. It was a starship, and carved onto the top in tiny neat letters was a name.

Enterprise.

The young man sprinted down the vast lawn, which lead to the main hall of the White estate. His phone buzzed ominously in his pocket, but he ignored it, already knowing the contents of the messages. When the young man reached the small side door, he came thundering in almost colliding with the cook, who shot him a bemused glance as he continued along.

It was hardly the first time he had been late, and it was now almost expected to see the young man running about like the world was about to end. Most of the other staff found it endearing, for the rest it was simply painfully irritating.

At long last he reached the small cupboard, which held his supplies, and, after retrieving the essentials of the day, he set out onto the vast land, that was home to the great house.

The white manor, and its surrounding land, had been home to over 25 generations of the white family, and as such it seemed timeless. The gardens, which surrounded the house, were so large that it would be quite easy to become lost in them if one did not know his way. The best part, in the young mans opinion, was the giant maze of rose bushes which sprawled across almost a three square miles of land. Hidden among the brambles and briars, were secret alcoves with fountains and benches. When he had finished his tasks for the day, he would often seek out his favorite of the lot, one he knew for sure that no one else could find, and read a book.

In case it is not completely obvious at this point, the young man was a gardener. Or rather, he was while he took a year off before college. His father had spent his entire life working for the family who owned the house, and as a result, when the young man had found himself alone and without any way to make money, he had been offered a job.

The white family had always been rather secretive, many speculated that this was the reason they had managed to outlast the decline of the aristocracy, and the countless wars and skirmishes, which are inevitable in history. Having grown up near the estate all of his life, the young man knew something about those who lived up in the great house, but not much.

He knew that it was home to a husband and wife, and their single child. He knew that the child was about his age, seeing as they had been born only a few months apart. He knew that this child was a boy of great intelligence, who played the piano and composed sonnets, (which he only knew because he would sometimes find them crumpled up on the ground in the maze). This However, was the extent of his knowledge. If he were asked, he would probably have stated frankly that "his kind and their kind just didn't mix." There was no contempt or anger in the words, just truth.

After four straight hours of pruning and trimming the plants, his work was done. Setting down his tools under a nearby tree, he shed his sweat-stained shirt and once again stepped into the maze of roses.

He had been lying in his secret alcove, staring up at the blooms around him, when he heard a rustle not far off. Suddenly the sound of a musical laugh filled the air, blending with the perfume of a million million flowers to create the perfect image of heaven. A tall, slim figure rounded the corner and in that moment the young man's life seemed to have come to a complete stop.

He wore a white button down shirt, and dark skinny jeans, which clung to every inch of his figure. In one long, elegant hand he held a slim leather bound book, and under his arm was a still squirming corgi puppy. At last the dog managed to free itself, coming to leap happily onto the gardeners bared chest with an excited "woof". The newcomer's piercing eyes widened briefly, and then his beautiful face returned to an unreadable mask.

The gardener jumped to his feet, upsetting the puppy.

" I am so sorry sir, I was just-well you see-" The gardener stuttered lamely, but was silenced when the beautiful stranger raised a hand. He trembled as he felt those crystaline eyes take in every inch of him slowly and deliberately.

The gardener stayed rooted to the spot as the other stepped closer until they could have almost kissed, before saying in a surprisingly purring voice, "Your socks don't match James."

James T. Kirk, blushed and with another muttered apology ran away, leaving the other smiling happily at his retreating back.

Notes: Ok, ok, ok, I know this was weird, but i promise you it will all be explained in later chapters, so please don't throw anything at me. I was actually going through some of the older episodes from star trek: next gen when this idea hit me, so feel free to drw whatever conclusions you want from this. If you have seen the particular episode to which the premise is extremely similar then please dont ruin it by telling everyone. ANyway, I hope you guys are ok with the the crazy new turn in the plot..I love you all, keep reading!


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